


Between Stars and Dust

by Schattengestalt



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Kisses, Laughter During Sex, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Protective John, Romantic Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Vulnerable Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 13:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4922023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattengestalt/pseuds/Schattengestalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first kiss means the world to Sherlock and he believes that the same applies to John, but he is wrong.</p><p>  <cite>Sherlock took a deep breath and forced out the question that weighted heavy on his heart. "What about our kiss?"</cite></p><p>  <cite>"What about it, Sherlock? It was just a kiss. It means nothing."</cite></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meaningless

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like writing something fluffy, but the story turned out more angsty than I planned at first. Don't worry though, there will be a happy ending.^^
> 
> The story is going to have two to three chapters and I'll do my best to finish it as soon as possible. Until then, enjoy and let me know what you think.

### Meaningless

He was happy. Sherlock smiled at his self-analysis as he lounged on the couch. A mirror would have shown him the image of a man with a silly - almost sappy - grin on his face and Sherlock didn`t mind in the least. No, for all he cared the whole of Scotland Yard could storm in and see him like that and Sherlock wouldn`t feel the least bit ashamed. After all, it wasn`t every day that one of his biggest dreams came true. If possible the grin on his face grew even wider when Sherlock recalled the exact moment that had turned this day from mediocre to special.

 

"It`s obvious that he is cheating on her with his brother-in-law! Christ, why do they never realise it!" Sherlock leaned back on the couch with a huff while the silly, romantic movie played out on screen. Really, how could John stand to watch this nonsense?! Sherlock glanced at his friend, who was leaning against the couch cushions. John`s eyes weren`t completely focused on the television screen. Every thirty seconds or so, John`s attention wavered and he gazed around the room, before he looked back at the screen.

Sherlock furrowed his brow. He had only agreed to watching this movie, instead of working on one of his experiments, because John had asked for it. Now, it seemed like his friend didn`t even enjoy the movie, but John didn`t show any signs that he would turn the TV off. Sherlock glanced at his phone and rolled his eyes heavenwards as he calculated that the movie wouldn`t be finished for another hour. By then it would be ten o`clock and John would switch to the news channel, before preparing for bed around eleven. Unacceptable, Sherlock decided and reached for the remote.

"Hey!" John protested half-heartedly when the TV screen went blank, but he didn`t make any attempt at turning it on again.

"The movie was stupid," Sherlock leaned a little to his left, so that his head was resting close to John`s against the cushions. "The actors couldn`t even play a convincing kissing scene."

"And what would you consider to be a convincing kissing scene?" Warm breath tickled Sherlock`s cheek when John whispered these words in a low voice and the hairs on his neck rose when Sherlock became aware of how close he was to his friend. If he only turned his head a little to the side, then he would be able to cross the space between John`s and his lips and... No, Sherlock shook his head inwardly as he tried to relax and not think about just how easy it would be to steal a kiss from John. His friend wouldn`t welcome his advances and Sherlock wouldn`t risk their previous friendship for a fleeting contact of lips. "I think, I`ll just go back to my experiment and see if it`s possible to kill someone with a combination of..."

"Sherlock."

A shuddering breath escaped his lips when John`s hand touched his cheek and the contact forced Sherlock to turn his face in John`s direction. They were only inches away from each other. Sherlock could clearly see the thin lines around John`s eyes and the sparkles of grey in his blue irises. His breath hitched in Sherlock`s throat as John moved even closer, his whole attention focused on Sherlock as he closed the space between their lips.

It was a chaste contact of skin against skin, but it was enough to make Sherlock melt against John. His arms came around his friend on their own accord as Sherlock moved his lips against John`s. He didn`t have any experience in kissing, but judging from John`s happy sigh as he returned Sherlock`s ministrations, he wasn`t too bad at it. Farther proof was the brilliant smile, John sent Sherlock`s way when they finally parted and Sherlock`s heart skipped a beat when his mind processed what that development meant for their relationship. The future was suddenly much brighter than mere minutes ago.

 

His lips still tingled from John`s kiss, whenever he thought back to that blissful moment. Of course, Sherlock was aware that this sensation was caused by his own imagination, but he couldn`t seem to care. After longing for almost two years for John to kiss him, Sherlock felt that he was entitled to bask in the memory of it. Hopefully, they would add more memorable kisses to this one, when John came back.

 

Sherlock tapped the display of his phone and stared at the time. It was twelve past ten and John still wasn`t back, although he had told Sherlock that he would just go out for a walk. A walk at this time in the evening... Sherlock furrowed his brow and tried to remember when John had gone out at such a time before and came up blank. Had John told him why he was going out or where he was going? Sherlock sat up on the couch and tapped impatiently on his knee with his fingers. Usually, he didn`t have any problems recalling information regarding John, but after their kiss, Sherlock had been in too much of a daze to remember anything specifically.

 

Twenty past ten, Sherlock clicked his tongue in annoyance. Certainly, nothing could have been so important that John couldn`t have waited until tomorrow to go out. He was just about to send a message to John and ask him about his whereabouts, when the door downstairs was opened and closed again. Ah, John was back!

 

Against his will, a bright smile forced Sherlock`s lips upwards when the door to the flat opened and the object of his longings entered. John hung up his coat, before wandering into their living-room. The smell of beer, smoke and cheap whisky hit Sherlock and the smile on his face wavered as he looked more closely at John - who hadn`t paid any attention to Sherlock so far. John had been to the pub - the one around the corner - and had drunk a beer - a Stout - and a whisky. He would have drunk more if the other patrons hadn`t started smoking after the kitchen had been closed - the pub owner didn`t take the law as seriously as he should. Blue eyes flickered over John - who had sat down in his armchair and still wasn`t looking at Sherlock - and his heart skipped a beat as he recognized the spot of red on the collar of John`s shirt for what it was. Lipstick!

 

A shuddering breath escaped Sherlock`s lips as his chest constricted painfully and his throat closed up. John couldn`t... No, there had to be a different explanation for all the evidence, instead of the most obvious. John had just kissed Sherlock after all, certainly he wouldn`t go to the pub and...

 

"John?" Somehow, Sherlock managed to pronounce the name without betraying his inner turmoil.

 

"Yes, Sherlock?" Light blue eyes met his and if Sherlock didn`t know John so well, he would have missed the guarded look in his eyes. As it was, that discovery added farther to Sherlock`s growing unease as he stared at John. It was impossible that he had misinterpreted the meaning of their kiss, wasn`t it?

 

Sherlock folded his hands in his lap to stop them from trembling as he tried to stay calm and collected. Naturally, he wasn`t very experienced in the matters of the heart, but a kiss - a kiss like they had shared - had to mean something at least.

 

"Do you want to have tea?"

 

Tea?! Sherlock frowned. Why would he want to have tea now? There were much more important matters to focus on than tea. So why would John ask him...

 

"Alright, alright, I`ll make some, but you could make tea as well... once in a while." John`s voice sounded light - too light - and Sherlock jumped up just when John made to get up from his armchair.

 

"Yes?" John raised an eyebrow as he looked at him and the words finally tumbled out of Sherlock`s mouth. "You went at a pub to have a few drinks - a beer and a whisky. You would have stayed longer if the other patrons hadn`t started smoking. You sat at the bar and flirted with a woman - middle age, single and eager to find a man - who kissed you before you left. She had already had a few drinks, since she smeared her lipstick at your collar instead of kissing your cheek, but she probably still managed to give you her number." Sherlock took a deep breath as no denies were forthcoming and forced out the question that weighted heavy on his heart. "What about our kiss?"

 

John`s gaze had rested calmly on Sherlock during his deduction, but now he glanced down and spoke to the floor. "What about it, Sherlock? It was just a kiss. It means nothing."

 

A knife to the heart wouldn`t have hurt more than these simple words. Truthfully, Sherlock was certain that it would have hurt less as he staggered back and grabbed the armrest of the couch for support.

 

"It means nothing."

 

His chest burned as Sherlock gasped for air and unwanted memories swarmed into his mind.

 

Twenty-one, Sherlock had just published a thesis about the chemical components used for perfumes. His professor gave him a high grade for it and then glanced at him briefly. "I hope you are aware that I might be the only one to read your paper, Mr. Holmes. It`s well done, but absolutely useless for scientists. Your grade aside, it means nothing."

At sixteen, Sherlock had just learned that he would be allowed to take his final exams two years earlier than his peers and start at university after the summer break. He went to his favorite teacher - chemistry - to share the news with him, only to be met with a bored look. "You aren`t the first one to finish school faster than other students, Mr. Holmes. It means nothing."

Sherlock was eleven years old and had just won the price for the best chemical project. He was so proud when he came home and showed it to his brother. Mycroft only sneered at him: "It`s just a stupid price for kids. It means nothing."

And, the worst and first memory - when it had all begun - at the age of five, when Sherlock had listened to a conversation of his parents. "Sherlock really is a handful," his father had said and his mother had only huffed in annoyance. "Trouble should be his first name. If the stupid condom hadn`t torn, we wouldn`t have to deal with it."

 

Sherlock hadn`t understood the meaning behind his mother`s words back then, but later - when he turned eight - he had realised what they implied. His life meant nothing to Sherlock`s mother and she would be happier if Sherlock had never been born and maybe... that would have been for the best. Sherlock clenched his eyes shut to avoid looking at John as he realised what a fool he had been. Of course, their kiss didn`t mean anything to John. He had kissed so many people in his life that one or two more didn`t make a huge difference. Only Sherlock had been stupid enough to read anything in John`s actions, when it had probably only been some kind of joke... or maybe curiosity. An experiment to find out how Sherlock would react to such an action.

 

At least, John was treated to an entertaining show, Sherlock thought cynically, when a shudder ran through his body. John`s readers would be amused to learn from his blog that the great genius was rendered a trembling wrack thanks to a meaningless kiss. Meaningless to John, since it had meant the world to Sherlock. A burning sensation started behind his closed eyelids and Sherlock pressed them together even harder. He wouldn`t start crying. One of his biggest dreams had just been scrunched to dust at his feet, but Sherlock wouldn`t... he wouldn`t...

 

"I`m absolutely worthless." The words fell from his lips, before Sherlock could stop them. And why should he hold them back? Really, they were true. Everyone, he had ever tried to impress or win for himself, had rejected him. Hell, his own mother regretted the day Sherlock had been conceived. What did that say about him, if not... A sob caught in his throat and Sherlock swayed where he stood, unsure what to do now, when nothing mattered anymore.

 

"Sherlock, sit down."

 

Gentle, but firm hands forced him back down on the couch, but Sherlock didn`t turn his head to look at John as he sat down next to him. Instead, Sherlock blinked a few times to force his tears away and then stared down at the hands in his lap. They were shaking, Sherlock noted numbly. It didn`t really matter, nothing mattered anymore.

 

A cough next to him. "Sherlock, what do you mean that you are worthless?" John`s voice sounded scandalized. Sherlock didn`t even feel like sneering at him as he trailed the acid burn on his index finger - from his latest experiment - with his eyes. "Isn`t it obvious, John." Sherlock`s voice barely wavered as he was finally able to see the truth he had been ignored for so long. "I don`t matter to... anyone. Whatever I do means... nothing. My academic accomplishments didn`t mean anything to my professors. Mycroft laughs at whatever I do. My mother... would rather have miscarried than have me and now," Sherlock ran a trembling hand through his locks. "My first kiss doesn`t even..." A sob hitched in his throat, just as John exhaled in surprise at Sherlock`s revelation. "I`m sure your readers will be highly amused that you managed to... be the first to kiss me. Donovan and Anderson will have a good laugh, when they realise that I have never... but they won`t figure out the true reason for it."

 

A hesitant hand touched his arm and Sherlock was tempted to slap it away, but he didn`t. In the end, it didn`t matter what he did or didn`t do. Everything was meaningless. He was meaningless.

 

"What`s the true reason?" John`s voice sounded shaken, but Sherlock still didn`t look at him. He was probably only suppressing his laughers. Obviously, Sherlock could give John an even better reason to amuse himself at his expense. "I, Sherlock - cold hearted - Holmes wanted my first kiss - and everything that came afterwards - to be special. A special moment, shared with a special person... obviously, that was too much... too much... to ask..."

 

To Sherlock`s horror a tear escaped down his cheek to humiliate him farther. He tensed and prepared himself for the mockery that would certainly follow his confession. John wouldn`t let him live that down. No one had ever allowed Sherlock to show any weakness and that display was the most pathetic...

 

"I`m so sorry, Sherlock." The hand moved from his arm to Sherlock`s hands and squeezed gently. Paralyzed, Sherlock stared down at them. "You are sorry, because I - a man of thirty-four - still haven`t managed to get... laid?!"

 

After everything that had happened this evening, the question was only logical, but it tore a strange sound from John. Forgetting for a second to stare at his hands, Sherlock turned his head to risk a glance at John. His light blue eyes were pained, his mouth pressed into a thin line and his face stripped of any color as John met Sherlock`s gaze. He didn`t have the time to make sense of what he was seeing, when John clarified his former statement. "I`m sorry that... I`m such an arse." John looked down at where his hand was resting on Sherlock`s, before he continued. "I never thought... I didn`t think the kiss meant anything to you."

 

Sherlock snorted at the absurdity of that statement, unsure where this conversation was going to lead. "I wanted to kiss you... not only today... for a much longer time." John`s voice wavered, just when Sherlock`s heart started to pound wildly in his chest. He held his breath while more words fell from John`s lips, all of them barely above a whisper. "When I did - kiss you I mean - this evening, I... panicked. I was afraid you would tell me that... you didn`t do that... that you weren`t interested in me and I... fled. When I came back," John bit down on his lower lip and Sherlock was convinced that he was only able to carry on, because of his stoic will. "I had convinced myself that you wouldn`t want me and I... lashed out at you, before you could... hurt me. I`m so sorry."

 

Dazed, Sherlock shook his head. John`s words were flying around in his head and he felt unable to make sense of them. Usually, Sherlock didn`t have any problems with following a conversation, but right now his emotions were clouding his mind. One moment John told him that their kiss meant nothing to him and now...

 

"What... what are you saying?" Sherlock hated how broken his voice sounded, but he had to know where John and he stood. If everything was lost or if there was the slightest chance that Sherlock`s dreams didn`t have to die a terrible death.

 

"I`m saying," John interlaced their fingers and Sherlock allowed it. "That I`m an idiot and that I want this," he nodded at their intertwined hands. "With you. If you are still... interested, that`s it."

 

Carefully, Sherlock used his index finger to stroke the soft skin of the back of John`s hand. His eyes followed the movement, cataloging how John`s thumb twitched at the gentle touch, before they moved back up to his face. For Sherlock, it was obvious that John meant what he had said. He had never been able to fool Sherlock before, unable to lie to his face and the light blue eyes mirrored everything that John was feeling: Self-contempt, fear, pain, shock and... hope.

 

Sherlock gulped. "What do you mean by... this?" He had to know what John wanted from him. Attraction was one thing and it could certainly lead to a kiss - or more. If it was only this, then Sherlock wouldn`t hold it against John that he had taken his first kiss, but... he wouldn`t give him anything else. It wouldn`t matter that Sherlock felt deeply for John if his feelings weren`t reciprocated. Sherlock had waited so long for someone, who loved him to come along that he wouldn`t throw away everything for a few crumbs of attraction. Even if he never fell in love again and remained... untouched till the end of his days, Sherlock just couldn`t...

 

"A relationship."

 

Wary, Sherlock met John`s gaze. "Like the relationships you had with so many women. A relationship that lasts a few months and ends when you have found someone new?"

 

A faint blush crept into John`s cheeks and Sherlock watched fascinated as he ducked his head in shame, before looking up at Sherlock once more. "No, not like this." John`s voice was steady as he held Sherlock`s gaze. "I would never propose a relationship to you if I wasn`t serious about it. You are much too important to me to throw everything away for a brief fling. Sherlock, I want," He licked his lips and gave Sherlock`s hand a little squeeze, before letting go of it and moving it up to Sherlock`s face to stroke his right cheek gently. "I want to be together with you. Not just for a short amount of time, but for... as long as possible."

 

A breath escaped Sherlock`s lips as he drunk in John`s words. Words, he had never believed would ever be directed at him. He was just about to lean towards John and claim his lips when another thought stroke him. "What about the woman? From the pub?"

 

An embarrassed smile appeared on John`s face. "It might be heartless of me - since she seemed very interested - but I won`t call her. I didn`t even truly want to speak with her, but I was so... confused, that I couldn`t reject her. At least, I managed to dodge her attempt at kissing me."

 

A weight lifted from Sherlock`s chest and he took a deep breath to slow the erratic beating of his heart. Nothing was lost, John and he still had a shot at a relationship and his first kiss had meant something. Sherlock felt that he could burst from happiness... or start crying embarrassing tears from relief. Instead, he leaned towards John - angling his face slightly - and a smile tucked at his lips when the movement was mirrored by John. Their lips met in a tender kiss, moving slowly against each other and measuring every centimeter of skin that touched. At least, Sherlock was memorizing everything about John`s mouth as their kiss went on. There was so much to remember - the stubble just above his upper lip, the roughness of his lower lip, where he had bitten down earlier, the texture of his skin - and even more was added to the list when John`s tongue flickered out. Grabbing at John`s shoulders, Sherlock allowed the kiss to deepen by opening his mouth and nudging John`s tongue with his own. It was a little like a game as they licked and nipped at each other`s lips and Sherlock noticed that he rather liked it. Kissing could very well become one of his favorite activities... with John.

 

He didn`t know how long they were kissing, when John gave him one last peck on his lips, before drawing back a little. "For a beginner, you are very good at kissing." The words were spoken playfully, but Sherlock still felt himself flush in mortification. "Is that the part where you mock me for my inexperience?" Because if it was then... Sherlock wouldn`t even be able to hold it against John. After all, who had heard about a man his age, who had never even kissed someone?!

 

"Mocking you?!" John`s eyes were wide with shock as they stared at Sherlock. John was kneeling on the couch, so that he was - for once - looking down at him as he grabbed Sherlock`s shoulders tightly. "Listen, Sherlock, I`ll never mock you for your inexperience. It was a compliment - rather badly formulated, I give you that - and I meant nothing else by it."

 

"A compliment," Sherlock echoed his words and suddenly felt like a complete idiot. He didn`t know how to accept a compliment - or how to give one - and he just realised that he wasn`t just sexually inexperienced, but when it came to relationships as well.

 

Sherlock exhaled slowly. John might want to enter a relationship with him and maybe - if Sherlock was lucky - he wouldn`t mind his sexual inexperience, but certainly it would be too much to ask of him to suffer Sherlock`s shortcomings in every other area as well. He tensed at the realisation and what it would mean for the future of them. Sooner or later, John would leave him, no matter how much he cared for Sherlock now and then...

 

"To tell you the truth, I think it`s rather endearing that you waited so long for your first kiss."

 

Sherlock`s mouth turned into a thin line. "Not only my first kiss. You are my first... everything." When John only blinked at him in confusion, Sherlock was forced to elaborate. "My first friend. My first partner. My first... I have never had any kind of relationship before and I think it`s only fair for you to know that. I might... ruin everything." His words fell into silence as John kept blinking at him. That was it, Sherlock thought with a heavy heart. John would think his decision through and come to the conclusion that a relationship with him would be too much effort. He would tell Sherlock that they should remain just friends and sooner or later - rather sooner - John would find someone else and move out and...

 

A light chuckle interrupted Sherlock`s dark musings. He lifted an eyebrow and John only shook his head at him, still grinning. "Sherlock, we have been friends for almost two years by now. I know what you are like. I`m prepared to find eyeballs in the microwave or mould in the teacups. I`m aware that you forget everything around you, when you are absorbed in a case or an experiment and I fall faster asleep these days when you play the violin at three in the morning. I don`t expect you to change in any way and what couldn`t destroy our friendship, certainly won`t destroy anything else between us."

 

John was... brilliant! A small smile tucked at Sherlock`s lips as he pressed a chaste kiss to John`s. If argued like that, John was completely right and Sherlock didn`t have to fear that he would destroy their relationship. At least, not with his eccentrics, which had driven away more people than the cared to count. Still, there were a few things...

 

"I know you as a friend, but now we are more... we are, right?" A sudden panic rose in Sherlock, but it deflated again, when John nodded in confirmation. "So, what are the rules now?"

 

"Rules?" Sherlock nodded. "Yes, I mean... when am I allowed to kiss you or touch you? Are we only going to kiss when we are on the couch or is it also fine to kiss you... in the kitchen? How are we acting in public? And... what about sex?"

 

There was a twinkle in John`s eyes and Sherlock feared that he would laugh at him any second now, but John only allowed himself a small smile before he brought some space between them and held up a finger to Sherlock. "Firstly, you can touch and kiss me whenever you like, as long as you don`t startle me when I`m cooking or when I`m carrying something. I promise you not to startle you, when you are working on an experiment or are thinking." Sherlock frowned at that. It made sense, but...

 

"I don`t mind you touching me, when I`m thinking, it`s... nice," Sherlock clarified. Indeed, Sherlock recalled rather fondly the occasions when John had stroked his curls, while he had been sprawled on the couch and turned over a problem in his head. His words were rewarded with a lingering kiss that made Sherlock`s lips tingle.

 

"Secondly," John smiled at him as he held up another finger. "I`m not for snogging in public," Sherlock`s heart sank. "But I`m very fond of holding hands and I don`t mind a brief kiss here and there... or a touch for that matter."

 

"So you don`t," Sherlock started insecurely, only to have John finish the question for him.  
"I don`t mind that everyone knows that we are together?" Sherlock nodded. "Hell, Sherlock, I would shoot it from the rooftops, so that there is no doubt any more that you belong to me. How could I ever be ashamed of being with you?!" It was a rhetorical question, but Sherlock still felt like answering it. "I`m a man."

 

John rolled his eyes at him. "Yes, I`m aware of that and I`m sure that some idiots are going to give us shit about it, but I don`t care. I`m not going to hide what I feel for you, period." Another kiss followed this annunciation and Sherlock had almost forgotten about his last question, when John held up his third finger. "We can do whatever you are comfortable with and I won`t force you to do anything, you don`t want to do, but," John licked his lips and then rearranged them both until Sherlock`s head was bedded on his thigh and John was leaning back against the cushions. He didn`t know why John had done that, but it was definitely more comfortable than their former positions. "You might want to tell me what you imagined for your first time. It`s only fair that it`s as special as possible, after you have waited for so long."

 

Heat rose in Sherlock`s cheeks at John`s words. Really, it was one thing to let your friend - boyfriend? partner? - know that you were totally inexperienced, but it was a different matter altogether to talk about it openly. Still, Sherlock could have lived with that, if he hadn`t thought that John would find Sherlock`s ideas of a first time ridiculous. He blinked up at John, who was running his fingers through Sherlock`s curls, and sent Sherlock a reassuring smile.

 

Sherlock gulped. Of course, he could make up a different scenario that wouldn`t be too humiliating, but... John had asked him. And Sherlock had held onto his dream for so long that it would appear to him like betrayal if he didn`t try to get what he had always longed for. Best to start from a safe topic and proceed slowly from there. Sherlock nodded to himself. Yes, that was a good plan.

 

"Everyone has always made me believe that whatever I did wasn`t worth anything... that I wasn`t worth anything." John opened his mouth at that, probably to protest the statement, but Sherlock shook his head. He didn`t know if he was going to be able to hold this conversation again if he was interrupted. "My professors, my teachers, Mycroft and my mother only thought very little of me."

 

"Was that why you started with the drugs?" Sherlock rolled his eyes at John. "It was one of many reasons, but I didn`t think you wanted to hear about my drug history." Honestly, Sherlock didn`t want to talk about that part of his past, least of all with John. It was bad enough that he knew about Sherlock`s addiction, he didn`t have to learn any more details. Especially, since Sherlock had sworn to himself never to use again as long as John was in his life. If he was very lucky... No, that was leading too far off the matter.

 

"Sorry, I didn`t want to interrupt you, go on." Sherlock sent a half-hearted glare John`s way, but it would have been more effective if he hadn`t leaned into John`s caressing touch. His curls would be utterly disheveled in the morning. "As I said, nothing I did seemed to matter and so... I decided that at least my first kiss and first time should mean something." The blush intensified as Sherlock coughed before going on. "I watched my peers throwing their first sexual experiences away and all but forgetting who they had shagged on the last party. I was disgusted by it and I waited, certain I would meet someone one day who would make this experiences special and... I know how naive and stupid that sounds."

 

"No, it doesn`t." Sherlock peeked up at John, who pressed a light kiss to his lips and smiled down at him. "I think it`s rather sweet and romantic. Certainly nothing to be ashamed of, Sherlock. And I`m certainly honored that you think I`m... your special one." A knot unfurled in Sherlock`s chest as he returned John`s smile hesitatingly. Put like that, he didn`t feel so stupid anymore about his... sentiments.

 

"Who else would it be?" Tenderly, he cupped John`s cheek in his hands. "Still, I`m not sure that you won`t laugh at me, when I tell you..."

 

"I would never laugh at you!" Blue eyes flickered over John`s face, taking in the determined set of his jaw and the promise in his tender gaze. The knowledge that John spoke the truth gave Sherlock the courage to finish his confession. "For my first time, I wanted to have sex... Penetrative sex," Sherlock added as John stared at him as if he doubted that Sherlock even knew what he was talking about. His face cleared at Sherlock`s words, but some of the doubt was still written in the lines on his face.

 

"Sherlock," John began carefully. "You know that there are other ways to have sex. There doesn`t have to be any penetration involved and I don`t know..."

 

"It`s fine," Sherlock sat up abruptly and stared at the scattered papers on the floor. "If you are opposed to anal sex that`s not a problem, John." At least, it wouldn`t be a problem, as soon as Sherlock was able to let go of one of his oldest dreams and become content with whatever John was ready to give him. He forced a deep breath past his thigh throat and into his lungs. It was stupid to get so worked up over such a simple matter. Sherlock should be glad to have John at all and not sulk like a child, just because he would never have everything he had always wanted. Life was not a bowl of cherries as Mycroft had loved to tell him every so often.

 

"Sherlock." A hand settled on his shoulder and soon John was kneeing behind him, his face nuzzled against Sherlock`s throat. "I`m not opposed to anal sex." Sherlock`s heart skipped a beat as his crumpling dream was rescued from a gruesome death. "Then why don`t you want to...?" Sherlock made a vague gesture with his hand. Warm air brushed Sherlock`s skin as John sighed behind him. "I just thought that it would be more reasonable to start with other sexual practices, so that you wouldn`t be overwhelmed."

 

Sherlock arched an eyebrow at that. "Don`t most girls - and men - think of real sex in terms of penetrative sex?" Another sigh against his throat, but this time it was accompanied by a slow nod. "They do, although I don`t agree with them, but," John pressed a kiss to the soft skin of Sherlock`s throat. "If that`s what you want for your first time, I`ll do my best to fulfill your dream, Sherlock."

 

A lump rose in his throat and Sherlock was thankful that he wasn`t facing John right now, otherwise he would have seen the pathetic glitter of tears in his eyes. Happy tears for a change, but still humiliating. After all, he had never been prone to tears before and this evening he felt on the verge of crying more often than during the last five years combined. Hormonal reaction to sentiments, Sherlock concluded, but he wasn`t able to list all the factors as John`s next question caught him by surprise once more.

 

"In which position do you see yourself?" It took Sherlock a moment to comprehend what John was referring to, but when he did, he flushed crimson. Christ, he had to get a grip on himself, if he didn`t want John to believe that he wasn`t only a virgin, but also a blushing maiden at that. "I find both positions have their merits, but for my first time... I want to be taken."

 

Silence followed his words and then: "No, Sherlock, not taken." John`s arms came around his waist as he leaned more heavily against Sherlock. "When we do that, then I`ll make love to you. Nothing else." This time, Sherlock couldn`t stop a single tear from escaping down his cheek. If John noticed it, he didn`t comment on it. Instead, he rearranged them on the couch, so that they were lying face to face and were therefore in the perfect position to exchange kisses. 

 

It was pure heaven, for all that Sherlock was concerned. And although it was obvious that the kisses wouldn't lead anywhere, John appeared very content as well as he claimed Sherlock`s lips for the countless time.  



	2. Doubts

"So, a triple murder behind closed doors." John rubbed his hands as they left the cab and walked towards the crime scene. It was impossible to miss the flashing lights of the police cars and the neighbors that had gathered in front of the barrier tape and were trying to get a good look at what was going on in house Nr. 8. John scrunched up his face in disgust as he noticed that some people were even trying to take pictures. Like a gruesome murder was some kind of reality show.

 

"Yes, Scotland Yard obviously doesn't have a clue as to what happened - like usual It sounds rather interesting, but it might also be very simple. Just because Lestrade isn't able to solve a crime, doesn't mean it's very complicated." Used to Sherlock's rants against all the police officers in general and Lestrade in particular, John only shook his head with a sigh. It wouldn't be of any use to scold Sherlock for... being himself. John might not agree with Sherlock, but that didn't give him the right to reprimand his boyfriend.

 

Boyfriend!

 

A grin tucked at John's lips as he glanced up at Sherlock - Stunning as always in his long coat and with his slightly tousled curls - and almost couldn't believe that they were together. Nine days had passed since their first kiss and this was the first time that they had been called to a crime scene since then. Without thinking, John reached for Sherlock's hand and interlaced their fingers. Startled blue eyes looked down at their hands as they passed through the mass of curious onlookers and John sent Sherlock a reassuring smile. It wasn't the first time they held hands in public, but it was the first time that someone who knew them, was going to witness it. Honestly, John was a little nervous about some of the officers' reactions, but he wasn't going to hide the nature of their developed relationship like he was ashamed of it.

 

"Three months sooner and I would have won enough money for a trip to Scotland," Sally Donovan welcomed them as they ducked under the police tape. 

 

"I'm sorry to hear that, Sally. Surely, Anderson would have loved to spent a romantic weekend at a secluded cottage, although I have heard that rug burns need a lot of time to heal." It was hard to keep a straight face, when Sherlock was like that - although John shouldn't find it amusing when he insulted people - but at least he managed to keep his laughers inside as Sally frowned at Sherlock. "I'm sure you know what you are talking about. Good for you that you have a doctor at home, right?!"

 

John snorted and Sherlock glared down at him, although the faint blush that colored his pale skin destroyed its effect. "Don't worry, I`m taking good care of him."

 

If John had thought that Sally was going to take the bait and sent another barb their way, he was surprised, when instead her eyes softened. "I'm sure you do, John."

 

Even Sherlock uttered a small gaps of surprise as she winked at them and then hurried off to one of the other officers, gesturing for them to enter the crime scene. "Will wonders never cease?" John muttered, but wasn't surprised when he didn't get a reply as Sherlock was already busy taking in all the information he could gather from the house. It was a big house. Bigger than your average houses in central London and John concluded that the habitants had to be rich to own that building. At least, they had been rich at some point in their lives, when they had built it... or maybe their parents had built it, John couldn't say. Nevertheless, he was sure that Sherlock had already deduced just how well off the inhabitants of that house had been. He was taking in everything, from the height of the entrance hall to the quality of the rug in the room, they entered next - and all the minor details John didn't even spot.

 

"Interesting! That looks promising!" Sherlock didn't even spare a glance to Lestrade as he let go of John's hand and hurried over to the three bodies, ignoring Anderson's protests as usual. And as usual, John stayed a little behind, watching as Sherlock bent over the bodies - two men and a woman - which were sitting peacefully in their armchairs. If the house hadn't been swarmed by police forces, it would have been easy to believe that they were just napping in front of the fireplace.

 

"So, you are finally together." John turned to look at Greg, who had come to stand next to him and was watching Sherlock as he sniffed the face of the woman. "Yes." John nodded, not sure what else to say. The whole of Scotland Yard had to know by now that they were together. Not only, because Sally had seen them holding hands, but most other police officers had as well. No matter how much Sherlock ranted against them, most of the officers weren't so stupid that they couldn't spot the obvious.

 

"Rosy faces and hands, looking like the flourishing life, if they weren't dead." John chuckled as he picked up some of Sherlock's murmuring. He was aware that it was a bad habit to show his amusement at a crime scene, but he couldn't really help it. Not when he loved watching Sherlock in his element.

 

"And you didn't think it necessary to call me and share the happy news?" An embarrassed blush spread over John's features as he focused his whole attention on Greg. The DI didn't look particular angry, only a little disappointed and curious.

 

"It's been nine days and... everything was so new that I just..." John shrugged apologetically and hoped that Greg understood what he meant. Entering a new relationship was always exciting and a little nerve-wracking. Add Sherlock Holmes to the mix and all these emotions were doubled, but not for the reasons most people would assume. Really, John furrowed his brow, Sherlock wasn't more demanding than his former partners and they were used to each other after almost two years of living together. No, it was just... everything was... so intensive where Sherlock was concerned. Probably because John had never before been so terribly in love with anyone else before. A smile grin tucked at the corner of his lips. He couldn't wait for his next chance to snog Sherlock on the couch and then cuddle up to him in front of the TV. Preferable with a glass of red wine to enjoy their evening.

 

"I hope that you won't only be with him until the novelty of it has abated." There was an unmistakable warning in Greg's tone and John frowned up at him. "If you think that I have entered a relationship with Sherlock to sate my curiosity then you are mistaken, Greg. I don't plan on letting him go again, now that I have him." John's answer - although a little possessive - seemed to appease the DI as he clapped John's shoulder and nodded at him. "Good, because I'm glad that Sherlock has finally found someone. I hated to watch him being on his own for all these years." They both glanced at the detective in question, who was busy examining the punch. The forensic team was waiting patiently - more or less - at the far end of the room, for Sherlock to finish whatever he was doing. They had all learned the hard way that it wasn't a good idea to get in the way of the only consulting detective in the world, when he was looking for clues.

 

"John, you know that..." Greg coughed embarrassed and nodded meaningfully in Sherlock's direction. John didn't have to be a genius to gather what the DI wanted to ask him and that he didn't know how to go about it. "Yes, I know that he doesn't have any experience in... the physical aspects of a relationship and I won't push him to do anything, he isn`t ready to do. Promised."

 

The smile Greg sent his way - warm and relieved - made him even more likeable to John. He had always known that the DI liked Sherlock, but it was a little different to have an actual proof for Greg's... brotherly affection towards Sherlock. Really, Greg would have made a better older brother than Mycroft, but John would keep that to himself. He didn't need Sherlock to treat Greg to the same insults he usually reserved for Mycroft.

 

Hopefully, Mycroft wouldn't decide that he had to have a heart - to - heart talk with John, now, that he was Sherlock's boyfriend. John shuddered at the idea, especially since he was certain that the older Holmes wouldn't have any problems deducing that it wouldn't take much longer until John and Sherlock went to bed together... in the biblical sense. They had already shared a bed - Sherlock's - on four separate occasions and it was only thanks to Sherlock's dream of how his first time should go that they hadn't indulged in any sexual acts. Of course, John mussed - while he watched Sherlock examining the rug with his magnifier - that wasn't the only reason. He was certain that Sherlock was up for lovemaking, but... John wanted to make Sherlock's first time as memorable and perfect as possible and he was still gathering ideas for that special occasion.

 

"It's not a triple murder," Sherlock announced as he came over to them and ensured that the attention of every single police officer was on him. Greg frowned at that. "How..."

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes and John prepared himself for one of his lengthy explanations - spiked with sharp insults at everyone - when Anderson's voice cut in. "Of course, it was murder. They were all obviously poisoned."

 

Sherlock didn't even look at him and John was relieved that he had chosen to ignore Anderson for once. "Yes, they were poisoned and they took the poison themselves - cyanide, their rosy skin color is a give away... but I'm not surprised that you didn't notice that. I wonder how you even passed your medical exam, when you..." 

 

So much for ignoring Anderson, John thought as the forensic scientist bristled. "Maybe, I don't recognize every poison at the color of the skin of the victims, but unlike you," he pointed a finger at Sherlock. "I have a private life."

 

Bored, Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Which involves stalking the new trainee, because Donovan doesn't want to be the substitute for your boring wife anymore?!"

 

John sucked in a deep breath as he watched Anderson turning white with anger. An explosion of some kind appeared unavailable, but John still wasn't prepared for the next words of the forensic scientist. "At least, any new lover of mine, won't have to deal with an inexperienced virgin. I wonder how long Doctor Watson is going to stand your fumbling, Holmes, until he gets sick of it and moves on to someone more experienced. A virgin, at this age, is only interesting until he is deflowered in every possible way! And if you keep him waiting longer then you won't even experience that.... ever!"

 

John gaped. Obviously, Anderson had stood close enough to overhear Greg's and his conversation about Sherlock's - so far - nonexistent sex life. Still, John hadn't expected Anderson to use it against Sherlock like that.

 

"GET OUT!" Greg's shout got Anderson stumping from the room, while muttering insults under his breath. A shame, John would have loved to give him a piece of his mind - or a good beating, really. He glared at the door, through which that stupid idiot had fled and swore to himself that he would catch Anderson alone at some point and then...

 

"They killed themselves, because they weren't only financially ruined, but they were also in a ménage à trois and it was about to come to light. Since Miss Hunter and Mr. Hunter were siblings it would have been a scandal. Therefore they took their own lives." Sherlock's voice was perfectly calm as he laid out the facts for them, but John knew him too well to buy the act. His face was paler than usual and his hands were trembling as Sherlock clasped them behind his back.

 

"Sherlock," John started, unsure what to say to make him feel better when Sherlock turned away and marched towards the door. "I'm sure we will find enough evidence for everything in the rooms upstairs."

 

Before John or Greg could protest, Sherlock was hurrying towards the staircase and they were both forced to follow him. John sighed as he came to realise that he wouldn't get a chance to talk with Sherlock until this case was closed. Nevertheless, then he would make sure that Sherlock understood that Anderson's words didn't even come close to how John was feeling about Sherlock, since the words of the stupid arsehole had obviously hit home.

 

OOO

 

It took them longer to get back to Bakerstreet than John had anticipated. Usually, Sherlock didn't bother with looking for evidences, after he had solved a case. He had always left that tiresome work to the police men, but not this time. They had put all the evidence for Sherlock's deductions together for over three hours and John would have been a fool, if he hadn't connected Sherlock's strange behavior to Anderson's insults.

 

John bristled as he recalled what that stupid bastard had said to Sherlock's face. If Greg hadn't sent him away, John would have beaten the living daylights out of him. Thankfully, none of the other officers had taken the chance to verbally abuse Sherlock with their newest knowledge. Sally had even brought them a coffee to go and clapped Sherlock's shoulder on her way through the rooms. And Sherlock... John sighed quietly as he followed him up the stairs to their flat. His decision to stay at the crime scene for longer than necessary, aside, Sherlock hadn't behaved strangely. Still, John didn't want to fool himself and believe that the idiot's insults hadn't left any scars. Even if Sherlock had been able to brush Anderson's comments off like an irritating fly, John would still make sure that Sherlock never doubted how much he was loved and that he didn't care if they made love tomorrow, in a month, in a year or never.

 

"Sherlock," he started when the door was closed behind them, only to find said person all over him at once. John gasped when Sherlock pressed him against the wall, pinning his arms above his head with one hand and grabbing at his hairs with the other. The kiss was rough and deep, underlined by a wildness that had never been there before. John panted against Sherlock's lips when his mouth was plundered by an agile tongue. His mind didn't have a chance to process what was happening as most of John's blood rushed southwards and left him without higher brain capacity for the time being. The whole length of Sherlock's body was pressed to his and it only increased John's arousal when Sherlock grinded against him.

 

"God!" A hoarse moan fell from his lips as Sherlock pushed John's legs apart and inserted his own between the spread thighs. The friction against his - still imprisoned - erection was heavenly. Fantastic. John hadn't felt so turned on in a long time. He spread his legs wider and leaned more heavily against the wall while Sherlock snogged John to an inch of his life - or so it felt. A little voice in his mind whispered to John that he should take the time to think and that it wouldn't be wise to get carried away. He ignored it as more heat pooled in his loins and only concentrated on the warmth that radiated from Sherlock's body and how his every touch lit John's nerve endings, until he believed that he was on fire. That was, until elegant fingers unbuckled his belt and moved to the zipper of his jeans.

 

John's eyes snapped open and his stomach lurched as he met Sherlock's gaze. There was so much desperation in these expressive, blue eyes that John could have easily drowned in it. And not only desperation, John noted with a sinking feeling, but also fear... panic, really. Whyever Sherlock was doing this, it became apparent that it wasn't for the right reasons.

 

"Sherlock!" John broke free from the grip of his friend and caught his wandering hand in his, before Sherlock could reach his goal.

 

"You don't want... You are hard and yet you don't want... me..." Sherlock`s voice cracked as he stared down at John's half opened jeans. "No, that's not it... let's sit down, Sherlock." Blue eyes looked at him with a mix of frustration and apprehension, but their owner still nodded, although he looked like he was led to the electrical chair, when they moved over to the couch.

 

"Hey love," John put an arm around Sherlock's tense back, after they had sat down and drew him closer, until the mop of dark curls was resting on his shoulder. Wary eyes peeked up at him, apprehension written all over Sherlock's beautiful face and John instantly hated it. Sherlock shouldn't look insecure. Sherlock especially shouldn't look afraid of John's reaction and John would be damned if he wasn't able to erase that look and all the negative feelings which were etched in the lines of Sherlock's face. But firstly he had to know exactly what was going through Sherlock's mind, although he already had an suspicions.

 

"What did bring this on, sweetheart?" John had found out a few days ago that Sherlock rather liked being called endearments and their usage appeared to help Sherlock relax - at least a little. He snuggled closer to John, but still held himself tense, his lashes overshadowing his eyes when Sherlock answered. "You liked it."

 

John raised an eyebrow at that. "Yes, I did, but that doesn`t explain why you did it."

 

"Of course, it does." There was a defensive hint in Sherlock's tone, but he still didn't meet John's gaze. "You like sex - any kind of sex - and you deserve to have it, although," A faint blush rose in Sherlock's cheeks and John had trouble catching the next words as they tumbled from Sherlock's lips. "I probably won't be good at it... at first. But I'll learn and get better and..."

 

"Stop!"

 

John pressed a finger to Sherlock's lips to prevent him from spurting anymore nonsense. Greg would better make sure that Anderson kept out of John's sight for the foreseeable future, if the DI didn't want to arrest him for manslaughter. John forced a deep breath into his lungs and willed himself to calm down - for Sherlock's sake. Gently, he urged Sherlock to look up and meet his gaze. The helplessness mirrored in these incredible eyes made John's heart ache in return. He had to wipe that pained look from Sherlock's face, otherwise his insides would be torn apart by it.

 

"Love, I like sex, you are right about that, but," John exchanged the finger on Sherlock's lips with his own for a brief kiss. "I'm not a randy teenager anymore. I quite enjoy cuddling on the couch, kissing you and falling asleep next to you. Didn't you deduce that?" The last part was spoken teasingly and Sherlock's lips curved up in reaction, before his face fell again. "I know that you enjoy it, but you... you can't be sexually satisfied." The with me wasn't spoken, but John could hear it nonetheless. Sherlock was afraid that he wouldn't be able to please him... and how stupid was that?! Really, if the situation was only a little different, John would have laughed at the assumption. As it was, he cupped Sherlock's cheeks with his hands and kneeled sidewise on the couch, so that their faces were only inches apart.

 

"Listen, Sherlock, I haven't accepted the invitations of women - and men - that only wanted a one - night - stand in months, because I'm not interested in meaningless sex. All this time, I was pinning for you - probably even longer than I realised - and I wanted to have a relationship with you. Back then, I didn`t even know if you wanted to have sex at all and you know what, love?!" Some of the apprehension had drained from Sherlock's face and a hopeful gleam was flickering in his eyes as he shook his head slowly. "I would have wanted to be with you, even if you hadn't been interested in sex. Alright, I would have wanked from time to time, but it would have been enough. You are more than enough, Sherlock! You. Are. Special!" John emphasized his words with a lingering kiss and sacked in relief when Sherlock melted against him.

 

Somehow they managed to lie down on the couch - Sherlock half on top of him with his head bedded on John's shoulder - without one of them falling off it. "I don't want you to throw away your - our - first time, because of something that degenerated monkey has said." A giggle - Sherlock would deny that he giggled later- was torn from Sherlock at the insult - directed at Anderson - and John smiled fondly at that. "You have dreamed so long about your first time and I want to give you exactly what you want." He pressed a kiss to Sherlock's forehead and ran his fingers through tousled curls. "I'll make it as special as possible for you, love. And then we can try whatever else you want to do."

 

John half expected Sherlock to tell him that he wasn't sixteen - year - old girl and that he didn't have to plan his deflowering in detail, but no protests were forthcoming. Instead, warm lips were pressed to his jaw as Sherlock sent a cheeky grin his way. "I don't know if we have enough years ahead of us to try everything I have in mind." The remark was definitely teasing and John found that he preferred that side of Sherlock to his insecure and vulnerable self - a lot. "I'm sure we will manage somehow and I might have a few ideas of my own, as well." Blue eyes shone with interest at that and John breathed another kiss to Sherlock's lips as he settled more comfortably against the cushions. There was no doubt that Sherlock was ready to become more intimate with John - probably had been for years - but nothing would happen tonight.

 

Soft lips nuzzled his throat, stubble scratched against his skin and John closed his arms more tightly around Sherlock. No, not tonight, but soon. It would be soon and it would be special, John would make sure of that.


	3. Laughter and Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the last chapter of this story and I promise you that it's filled with love, happiness and smut (and a few insecurities, of course.^^). :)  
> Enjoy it and let me know how you liked it! =)

### Laughter and Kisses

John was beautiful.

 

Sherlock traced the lines around John's lips with his thumb and smiled, when his boyfriend leaned into the contact. Even while still asleep, John was more affectionate towards him than anyone, Sherlock had ever met. Which was good, since Sherlock wouldn't have wanted anyone else to cuddle him on the couch or snog him in the stairway, after the conclusion of a complicated case. No, Sherlock mused with a content smile, he had only ever wanted to share such intimate moments with John. He couldn't imagine to kiss another man, not now and not ever. For him, there was only John and... John was fine with that. He hadn't once ridiculed Sherlock for his inexperience or his dreams. Instead, his boyfriend had even made sure that Sherlock didn't throw away his first time in an act of desperation.

 

A hot blush graced Sherlock's cheeks, when he remembered how pathetic he had acted, after their last case - four days ago. Not only had he completely dismissed John's feelings for him, but Sherlock had also allowed Anderson - that babbling idiot - to get to him. As if it mattered what the incompetent fool called him. Sherlock had never been ashamed of being a virgin - in every sense of the word - and he should have ignored Anderson. Instead he had... No, Sherlock scolded himself as he noticed how his mind went in circles about his ridiculous actions, once more. Nothing bad had come of it. If anything, Sherlock was even more certain about John's feelings for him, after their conversation. He had to let go of this embarrassing episode and instead concentrate on the present. On John. Next to Sherlock, in his - their - bed. It was all that mattered after all.

 

Sherlock placed a chaste kiss to the corner of John's lips and smiled, when his boyfriend sighed contently in his sleep, but didn't wake up from the brief contact. That in itself spoke of such an immense trust that Sherlock was momentarily stunned, before a playful smirk crossed his features and he pressed another kiss to John's jaw.

 

"I wonder where else I can kiss you, without waking you," Sherlock murmured quietly to himself and then went to satisfy his curiosity.

 

Sherlock couldn't call it an experiment, since he hadn't formulated any hypothesis as to when his ministrations would rose John from his slumber. Somehow, it was freeing that he didn't need the excuse of an experiment anymore to be close to John. He was allowed to kiss, cuddle and hug his boyfriend, whenever he felt like it and as long as no protests were forthcoming- John had been very clear about these points. Therefore, Sherlock didn't think that John would mind a few kisses, even while he was sleeping. Still, Sherlock decided to draw an invisible line at John's navel, if his boyfriend hadn't woken up by the time Sherlock reached this part of his anatomy. No matter how welcoming John was of his kisses, Sherlock wouldn`t touch John's private parts, without his explicit consent. With that in mind, Sherlock kissed a trail from John's jaw to his right collarbone and then back up again. His lips tingled from the contact with the smooth skin and he hurried to repeat the action on John's other side.

 

By the time, Sherlock had kissed - and licked - every line of John's scar, he was straddling his boyfriend's lap. A leg on each side of John's hips to prevent himself from tumbling on John, while Sherlock leaned over him for better access. At least, that was how Sherlock justified his new position to himself, although it was almost impossible to deny how arousing... No, that wasn't right. Sherlock took a shaking breath to steady his racing heartbeat and ignored how his cock twitched between his legs, when his nose filled with John's unique scent. This wasn't about getting off - at least, it hadn't crossed Sherlock's mind until now - but about tasting and kissing John. Especially, since John hadn't agreed to any sexual activities and Sherlock wasn't going to destroy the trust, John placed in him. If John was awake, it would be a different matter, but as it was... With a quiet sigh, Sherlock made to sit up and get out of bed to deal with his erection, when strong arms grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward.

 

"Whew," was all Sherlock managed, when the air was pressed from his lungs and he landed on top of John. A groan, mixed with a chuckle, echoed from John and Sherlock nearly pouted at the sound. "You are awake," he deduced and propped himself up on his elbows to loam over his grinning boyfriend.

 

"Did you really think I could sleep through your kisses?" John placed one of his own just above Sherlock's cupid's bow. "I was awake since you focused your whole attention on me."

 

Sherlock frowned at that. "Why didn't you say anything?"

 

"And spoil all the fun?!" John chuckled and shook his head. "I really wanted to know what you would do and besides, it was nice. I rather like it, when you kiss me."

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes at John's childish tone, but couldn`t help smiling at the same time. It pleased him to know that John enjoyed his kisses and he leaned forward just to steal another one from his boyfriend.

 

This time, it wasn't a chaste press of lips to lips, but a passionate dance of tongues, teeth and mouths, when John slung his arms around Sherlock's back and drew him more closely on top of him. They were both naked, but for their shorts, and the feeling of John's bare chest against his sent sparks of arousal through Sherlock's body. His cock strained against the silky fabric of its prison and when Sherlock moved against John's body, an answering bulge nudged his thigh. Sherlock broke their kiss with a gasp and hid his face in the crook of John's neck, when the realisation hit him and words spilled from his mouth in a rush. "I want you to... make love to me."

 

John tensed underneath him and for a horrible moment, Sherlock feared that his wish would be denied and he prepared himself for an argument, when fingers ran tenderly through his curls. "Are you sure?" John's hoarse voice sounded next to his ear and Sherlock nodded against his shoulder. "Yes, I am sure."

 

And he was. God, Sherlock had been sure that he wanted to sleep with John, for the better part of two years by now. He wasn't going to pretend that he had loved John from the second he had lain eyes on him... No, that would be pathetic and dishonest. Still, Sherlock couldn't deny that he had fallen in love with his flatmate in the first couple of months, they had lived together and shortly after he had started to imagine how sex with John would be. Of course, not even Sherlock had been able to deduce how John's hands would feel, while they roamed over his back or how his elevated heartbeat would lead to an increase of Sherlock's pulse. All these little details were only revealed to Sherlock now and he wanted to catalogue them all and fill them away in John's wing of his Mind Palace, but at the same time... Sherlock just wanted to feel. He wanted to bask in the warmth that radiated from John's body and watch how his pupils dilated, when Sherlock kissed him and... he wanted to learn how John sounded when he came.

 

His cock gave an interested twitch at the last thought and Sherlock moaned quietly against John's skin. Yes, he definitely wanted to sleep with John. Not only was his body more than eager to experience relief by the hands of his boyfriend, but Sherlock was also certain that he was mentally ready to take this step. A step, Sherlock had never taken before, but he knew that it would be fine with John. More than fine, it would be... great.

 

"What do you want, love?" John's stubble scratched against Sherlock's skin, when his boyfriend pressed a kiss to his left cheekbone. "I told you, what I want. I want you to make love to me." Sherlock was relieved, when his steady voice didn't betray his nervousness at the prospect of becoming intimate with John.

 

"Yes." John's breath tickled Sherlock's throat. "But I was speaking about foreplay. I am not going to skip right to the main event. Especially not, when you didn't give me heads-up, so that I could plan our first time together and make it perfect."

 

"Perfection is an allusion of the human mind, which is completely subjective and will never be achieved by anyone or anything, because most people consider perfection as impossible to gain and therefore wouldn't label anything as such." Sherlock propped himself up on his forearms and gazed down in John's loving gaze. "If you want to plan something more special for our first time together, then I'll accept it, though." And he would, even if it would kill him to leave John now, so that they could both deal with their erections alone. After all, this wasn't just about Sherlock, it was about John as well and if his boyfriend needed a special occasion or setting for their first time, then Sherlock would never...

 

"No." John stroked Sherlock's biceps soothingly. "I don't think that I can come up with something that would be considered special by both of us. I don't imagine that you want to have rose petals on the bed and candles on the floor." Sherlock shuddered at the mental image and John laughed quietly. "And I doubt that I would be able to get turned on, if I decorated our flat with skulls and poisonous plants. This," John nodded to both of them and included their bed in the gesture as well. "Is perfect, because we both want it, now and I just want to know how to make it good for you. What have you always imagined, when you thought of your first time? Of us together?"

 

Sherlock blushed - he blushed like a goddamn maiden - but he held John's patient eyes with his as he shared his secret dreams with him. "I want to kiss and touch you... everywhere, until I can recognize every part of you from taste alone. And I want you to do the same to me and then," Sherlock licked his dry lips and grinned, when he noticed how John's eyes followed the movement of his tongue. "I want you to breach me with your fingers and stretch me, until I am ready for you and then I want to... ride you."

 

Sherlock was aware that his speech hadn't been up to his usual verbal standards, but that didn't explain the frown that creased John's forehead at his last words. Maybe, John didn't want Sherlock to be on top, because he feared that he would be seen as less dominant in this position, although no one but Sherlock and him would know of it. Before, Sherlock could take his wishes back, though, John chimed in. "If you ride me, then... the penetration in this position is deeper than in most others and... I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

 

Sherlock shook his head and pressed a quick kiss to John's lips. "I know all that and I want... that's why I want it. The imagination of taking you as deep as possible..."

 

His words were interrupted by an animalistic groan, when John grabbed Sherlock's upper arms and pushed him back on the bed. He followed a second later and Sherlock sighed happily, when John's warm weight settled on top of him. "I'll make you feel fantastic, you wonderful, brilliant and mad genius," John promised with a growl and crushed their mouths together in a bruising kiss.

 

Sherlock didn't doubt his boyfriend for even a second, when John pressed his thigh against Sherlock's clothed erection and tore a groan from his lips. He already felt fantastic and the feeling only intensified, when skilled fingers found his nipples and...

 

"Holy, fucking Jesus!"

 

Sherlock hadn't known about nerves connecting the pink buds on his chest to his cock, but obviously he had to update his anatomy knowledge, after John had just sent waves of pure pleasure through his whole body by...sucking on his nipples.

 

"Sensitive." John's twinkling eyes looked up at Sherlock. "I like that." And then he repeated his former action.

 

Sherlock was a panting mess by the time, John deemed his work finished. His nipples were throbbing in an exquisite pain-pleasure combination and Sherlock only regretted that he wasn't able to close his own lips around the swollen buds to taste John's salvia on them.

 

"God, you are gorgeous." John pressed a last kiss to Sherlock's right nipple and then sat up to free them both from their boxers.

 

Sherlock's mouth went dry as he laid eyes on John's hard cock for the first time. It was slightly above average in length for a British - about eight inches, if Sherlock was to trust his hazy mind - but thicker than Sherlock had anticipated. Or maybe, that were just his nerves speaking, when he realised that this part of John would be inserted in a part of him. Still, that didn't mean that Sherlock was afraid as his eyes wandered from the pink head of John's cock - foreskin already retreaded - over his thick length to his testicles, which were nestled in between blond curls. Nervous, yes, that he admitted freely - at least to himself - but he knew that there was no reason to fear anal sex with John. Sherlock knew the mechanics behind the act, therefore he was aware that he wasn't at risk of obtaining any injuries as long as John was careful... and Sherlock didn't doubt that for even a second. He trusted John, with his life.

 

"You are so beautiful. All pale skin and lovely angles. I think I could spend the next couple of hours just looking at you." A low chuckle fell from Sherlock's lips and washed his nervousness away. "I might not be an expert, but I doubt that this would do much for you."

 

John threw a cheeky grin his way and bent down to place an open mouthed kiss just above Sherlock's hipbone. "You underestimate your own allure, but I won't argue with you, if you have something else in mind." Sherlock smiled at the teasing tone - so familiar - and then nodded in the direction of John's erect cock. "I want to taste you."

 

It was hard to see in the faint light that flickered through the curtains, but Sherlock was certain that John's pupils dilated farther at his words. "Yes, please."

 

Some scrambling on the bed took place, until John leaned back against the pillows, with Sherlock sitting in between his spread thighs. At this distance, John's cock appeared even thicker than before and Sherlock licked his dry lips as he inched closer. He wanted to taste John so badly, to wrap his mouth around the head of his cock and...

 

"John," Sherlock started tentatively and stroked the soft flesh of John's thighs to get his attention. "I don't... You know that I have never and I don't..." Sherlock gulped and averted his eyes. He knew - theoretically - how to give a blowjob and that he shouldn't use his teeth - if he wasn't told otherwise - but he didn't have the first clue how he was supposed to go about it in practice. His gag reflex wouldn't allow him to take John in deeply and that was rather the point of a good blowjob, wasn't it? Sherlock took a shaky breath and tried to calm his racing heart. It didn't work, his mind only came up with more scenarios of how Sherlock could screw up his first blowjob. The worst was that John would probably know how terrible Sherlock's technique was, before he even realised it himself. After all, John was experienced and he would be annoyed at Sherlock's lacking skills and...

 

"Hey, sweetheart." Gentle fingers touched his face and forced his chin up to meet worried blue eyes. "You don't have to do that, if you don't want to." Sherlock shook his head and bit down on his lower lip. "I want to, but... I don't know how... I want to satisfy you and I don't..."

 

"Shhh." John soothed Sherlock's bottom lip with his thumb and leaned up to press a quick kiss to it. "You don't have to be perfect. No one is the first time - or the second, third or ever - but that's fine. Just do, what you feel like doing. I guarantee you. I'll enjoy it."

 

Some of his panic melted away at John's words, but Sherlock still frowned slightly, even when he reached out with his right hand to close around the shaft of John's cock. "How do you know that you'll enjoy it?" The smile that lit up John's face could only be described as brilliant. "Because it's you and knowing that is almost enough to make me come right away."

 

"Don't you dare," Sherlock growled and John giggled. Panic and fear fled the scene and Sherlock felt himself smile, before he brought his face on a level with John's crotch. Musky scent filled his nostrils and Sherlock inhaled deeply as he nuzzled the blond curls. They smelled of sex and male and... John.

 

Sherlock sighed happily and continued his exploration. John's scent got even stronger behind his balls and a tentative lick gave him the first hint of John's purest taste - and pulled a groan from his boyfriend at the same time. Feeling more confident, Sherlock licked a line from the right testicle to the left one and was rewarded with a needy whimper. A whimper that increased in volume, when Sherlock kissed his way from the base to the head of the proud erection. He teased the sensitive skin there with the tip of his tongue and moaned quietly, when he gathered the first few drops of pre-come from John's throbbing length. It was bitter - too bitter for Sherlock's liking - but he didn't mind, because the taste was a part of John and that alone made it so much sweeter... not literally of course, but...

 

"Fuck, Sherlock!"

 

Ah, so sucking on the head of John's cock and fondling his balls at the same time led to an increase of swear words. Sherlock grinned and repeated his actions, only this time he put more of John's cock into his mouth.

 

"God, you... Christ!" The cursing spurred Sherlock farther on and he hollowed his cheeks and sucked at John's cock like it had been advised in an article. Obviously, the women's magazine had been accurate - for once - since John's hips bucked at the combined stimulation and Sherlock... chocked.

 

He barely managed to withdraw from John, without scratching him with his teeth as he coughed from the invasion of his throat. At least, Sherlock hoped that he hadn't accidentally hurt John in his hurry to get away from his cock. And even if he hadn't, Sherlock had just butchered up his first blowjob and John wouldn't be happy about it. No matter how often John told him that Sherlock didn't have to be perfect, he would still be disappointed and he wouldn't want to continue now and...

 

"I' m sorry, bee." Strong arms drew Sherlock on top of John's warm body, while gentle lips placed kisses on his forehead. "I should have had better control. I didn't mean to choke you." John's index finger traced the line of his throat. "Are you hurt?"

 

Sherlock shook his head. "No, but... bee?" He had actually meant to ask if John was angry about the failed blowjob, but he didn't want to draw more attention to it than was necessary. Besides, it didn't appear like John was angry with him and maybe, Sherlock thought tentatively, there was nothing to be angry about. Maybe, it was fine to fail at something new once in a while. John had implied as much and since he was still calling Sherlock by endearments and holding him close, this had to be the correct conclusion.

 

Fingers played with his curls and Sherlock felt the rumble in John's chest, when he spoke next. "You like bees and I just thought... don't you like it?" Sherlock frowned and then shook his head. "No, it's fine. Bees are amazing creatures and I' m honored that you think me worthy of the title."

 

"Idiot." Sherlock stole the word from John's lips and let go of his remaining trepidation, when John returned the kiss. Nothing was ruined. They were still fine and...

 

"Oh!" An undignified gasp was pulled from Sherlock's lips as John reversed their position and he found his boyfriend loaming over him with a predatory smile on his face. "Do you trust me, love?"

 

What a stupid question! Sherlock rolled his eyes at it. "Of course, I do."

 

"Good, then turn around." Sherlock blinked slowly up at John, unsure what he had in store for him, but he did as he was told. He was sure that John wouldn't do anything that Sherlock wouldn't like... or at least, he wouldn't continue if Sherlock signaled his discomfort to him. With that in mind, Sherlock fluffed the pillow and turned his head to the side as John straddled his waist.

 

"Relax," the reassuring voice whispered into his ear and Sherlock all but melted into the mattress, when John kissed his way from the cervical vertebra to his first lumar vertebra and back up again. The ministrations sent sparks of lazy arousal through his body and by the time, John kissed his right buttock, Sherlock felt like a content puddle of ice-cream, in the summer, in John's hands. It felt fantastic. John's skilled hands roaming all over his body, his sinful lips leaving marks on Sherlock's pale skin - note, he needed two mirrors later - and his wicked tongue...

 

"Holy mother of... Fuck!" Heat flushed his face at his own outburst. Sherlock hadn't wanted to get so vocal and he certainly hadn't intended to curse, but John's tongue in the crease between his buttocks was just too much of a temptation. Luckily, John appeared rather pleased by his outburst, if his content chuckle was anything to go by.

 

"That was only the beginning, sweetheart." Sherlock didn't get more of a warning, before John dived between his ass cheeks once more. And - God - it was torture and heaven at once. Sherlock had never suspected that his arse was so sensitive, but every touch of John's tongue shot straight to his groin and turned him slowly - but steadily - into a whimpering mess. Sherlock didn't know how long he would be able to stand the sweet torture, when the tip of a wet tongue pushed past the ring of muscle around his anus and almost pushed him over the edge.

 

"John!"

 

Sherlock clenched the covers between his hands and held onto his control for dear life, although it was slipping away farther from him with every second of John's tongue in his hole. He was torn between rubbing himself against the mattress and pushing his arse back into John's face. Both options sounded fantastic, although they would certainly made him come in a matter of seconds and Sherlock didn't want to come yet. He wanted... he wanted... God, it was hard to think, while John's hot breath tickled his slick hole, but Sherlock had to get his wits about him. At least for a minute, but... Oh, John was kneading his buttocks and sucking at his hole and Sherlock's cock throbbed between his legs and he wanted... he needed... A desperate whine fell from his lips, when John withdrew from him and left him cold and wet. His hole flattered forlornly at the absence of any stimulation and Sherlock almost cried out in betrayal, when John moved away from him.

 

Only when Sherlock heard his boyfriend rummage through the contents of his nightstand, did his mind put the clues together. "First drawer, left side. Condoms and lube," Sherlock rasped hoarsely and sighed in relief, when John screamed triumphantly and sat down between his spread thighs once more.

 

A plopping sound announced the opening of the lube and Sherlock tensed involuntarily. It was stupid, he had experimented with fingering himself, while masturbating numerous times and he knew how it felt. Still, these weren't his own fingers, but John's, which would be pushed up his arse and Sherlock couldn't help the nervous whimper that fell from his lips, when a slick finger circled his hole.

 

"Shh, relax. It's fine. I'll be careful and I'll stop if you are uncomfortable, promised." The soothing words - or was it just John's voice - eased some of the tension and Sherlock unclenched his muscles one by one, until he lay relaxed once more. Only then, John breached his slick and loose hole with his index finger. It was strange and familiar at the same time. Different from Sherlock's own fingers and yet, the sensation was familiar. He pushed back against John's hand and yelped when the action earned him a playful slap. "Patience, bee. We will go as slow as I see fit."

 

Sherlock groaned in mocked annoyance, but he didn't try to force a faster pace, while John stretched him with first one and then two fingers. John went slow - and probably used up the whole lube, judging by the slickness between his ass cheeks - and Sherlock wasn't going to protest again. It felt... good. More than good to have a part of John inside him. To be surrounded by John's smell and to listen to his strained breaths, while he pushed his fingers into him.

 

"Do you like direct prostate stimulation?" The question sent blood rushing south and Sherlock needed a moment to get his tongue back into working order, before he was able to reply. "Don't push against it, but," Sherlock wet his lips. "If you rub just above it, that would be..."

 

"Like this?!"

 

"Fuck! God! John... Stop!"

 

Sherlock gripped the base of his cock as hard as possible to hold back his climax, even while every nerve ending of his body screamed for release. John had almost made him come with only his fingers up his arse - although admittedly very skilled fingers - and that wasn't how Sherlock wanted his first sexual encounter to go. He wanted... it was hard to think with his hand uncomfortably gripping his throbbing erection, but Sherlock was sure that he didn't want to come just yet.

 

"I am sorry, love." John pressed a kiss onto his spine, but didn't move otherwise. His fingers were still pushed deeply into the tight hole and Sherlock heaved a relieved sigh at that. At least, he wouldn't have to explain to John why he had needed him to stop. Sherlock didn't want John to assume that he wasn't comfortable with their lovemaking, when the opposite was actually true.

 

"No need to... apologize. Just... give me a second." Sherlock took a shuddering breath to force his racing heart to slow down and John squeezed his thigh reassuringly. "Take all the time, you need. I don't plan on going anywhere."

 

Sherlock chuckled and some of the tension in his belly eased as he listed the periodic table in his head, until he wasn't wavering on the verge of his climax anymore. Only then, Sherlock realised his dead grip on his cock and turned his head to nod at John that he could continue.  
And continue, he did. Sherlock could only writhe on the sheets, while John took his sweet time in preparing him. As often as Sherlock's orgasm loamed just around the corner of another push of skilled fingers, John would stop long enough to delay the inevitable. It was torture of the sweetest kind and Sherlock didn't want it to stop, although... he did. He yearned for release and for John as much as he longed for a continuation of their activities until the end of time.

 

"John, I want you. Now." The more realistic part of Sherlock managed to form these words and the fingers were withdrawn from within him. There was a pause and Sherlock blushed furiously, when gentle hands parted his cheeks to inspect their work, although he knew why John was checking if he was ready, but still... it was mortifying. And thrilling, in a foreign way.

 

"Alright, you should be ready." The words - so harmless in themselves - sent a shudder through Sherlock's body and a faint tremor shook his whole frame, by the time he got up on his knees and faced his boyfriend.

 

John had occupied the - so far - unused side of the bed and was propped up against the headboard - a pillow behind his back - and smiled reassuringly at Sherlock. "You can still change your mind about the position - or anything at all - if you like."

 

Sherlock shook his head. No, he wouldn't change his mind. There was no reason to back out of the sex now. Not, when his hole felt empty without John's fingers and all the nerve endings of his body were on fire and screaming for release. Besides, Sherlock couldn't have changed his mind, even if he had wanted to. John was much too alluring in his present position, with his swollen lips, flushed chest and - not to forget - his throbbing cock that rose from between blond curls.

 

Sherlock's mouth went dry in anticipation as he crossed the remaining space to John and straddled his lap. The latex clad head of John's cock nudged against his buttocks and Sherlock glared slightly at the offending piece of rubber, which would remain a barrier between them.

 

"We talked about this, sweetheart." John raised an amused eyebrow at him and Sherlock sighed in defeat. Yes, they had both decided that it would be wiser to use condoms, until enough time - at least half a year - had passed since John's last sexual encounter with anyone , who wasn't Sherlock, to ascertain that he was clean. Sherlock was tested every three months - to stop Mycroft's meddling - and his last test results - after the incident with the exploded liver - had come back without pathological findings. Therefore, it was only a matter of time, until the condom could go and Sherlock would accept John's terms until then.

 

"I love you," Sherlock whispered, instead of ranting against latex barriers and John smiled at him. One of his sweet, brilliant smiles, that lit his eyes in a very specific way and made him look younger by ten years. "I love you, too, bee."

 

Sherlock smiled - he had known that, but it was nice to have verbal proof - and then guided John's erection to his entrance. It took him four tries, until the blunt head breached the ring of muscles, instead of sliding over it. Sherlock smirked in triumph, when the first inch of John was inside him, which was met with a strained, but happy smile from his boyfriend.

 

"Slowly," John warned him and gripped his thighs, when Sherlock sank slowly down onto his body. He wouldn't have needed John's warning. Sherlock didn't have any intention of going fast. Instead, he memorized every second of joining his body with John's. The slight burn and uncomfortable stretch, while his body adjusted to the size of John's cock. The sweat that trickled down his chest, as he panted for breath. The tremble of his muscles, while he lowered himself inch by inch. And above all, John's strained expression, as he held onto his control... for Sherlock's sake.

 

"Oh John!" His voice cracked, after he had taken the last inch of John. It was as close as they would ever get and it wasn't... it wasn't enough, although at the same time, it was. Sherlock took a shaking breath and put his hands on John's chest. The heart of his boyfriend was racing as fast as Sherlock's and when he looked down into blue eyes, he found the same raw emotions mirrored there, he was experiencing himself. Amazement, lust, happiness, desire, love and... Disbelief. 

 

Disbelief that they had come this far. Disbelief that they were together and loving each other. And - on Sherlock's part - disbelief that someone as wonderful as John was here to share this experience with him. An experience, Sherlock had long since given up on dreaming about, since it had occurred to him that no one would ever love him. And then there was John and John was...

 

"It's alright, love. I know. I understand." Arms came around Sherlock's trembling body. Determined, but gentle lips joined his in a deep kiss and Sherlock felt his heart calm down as John's warmth enfolded him. The emotions were still there, when John let go of him and leant back against the pillow, but they weren't overwhelming anymore and Sherlock found himself able to move.

 

Unlike with the blowjob, Sherlock couldn't only draw from the knowledge he had gained from the lecture of various articles, but he was also able to judge John's reactions from his facial expressions. His eyelids fluttered, when Sherlock rolled his pelvis. A change in his breathing pattern was triggered by Sherlock's slow rising on his knees, until only the head of John's cock remained in him. He groaned, when Sherlock impaled himself on his erection once more and grabbed the sheets desperately, when Sherlock arched backwards and took John into him even deeper.

 

"Oh God, Sher... Bee!"

 

Sherlock's chuckle at John's exclamation, turned into a groan as John's cock brushed against his prostate and sent waves of rare pleasure straight to his leaking erection.

 

"John... so close," he whimpered, unable to decide how to proceed without coming within a few minutes and thankfully he didn't have to think of anything, because John took the decision away from him. He bent his knees to give Sherlock a better hold and gripped his thighs to steady him. "Move and come. I want to see you! I want to watch your face, when you come. Do it!" And Sherlock did. 

 

Groans and screams echoed through the room, when John started thrusting up in his lover and Sherlock met his movements halfway. Every other thrust started a firework in his nerve endings and Sherlock felt himself coming apart on top of John, when his lover teased the head of his cock lightly. He was barely aware of his own screams or John's groans in his ear, while the world around him flashed white as his body shook with pleasure and its release. It was impossible to judge how long the high lasted, but when Sherlock came back to earth, he found himself snuggled on top of John, with his nose pressed in the crook of his neck.

 

"Are you alright?" Sherlock nodded at the question and then whimpered quietly, when John shifted them on their sides and pulled out of him. "Sorry, love, but it would have turned into a right mess, otherwise. With the condom and all." Sherlock sighed and nodded, unwilling to even berate John for throwing the used condom - hopefully tied together - to the ground as he threw his arms around his lover. He was tired and sated and his body was yearning for sleep. And what would be better than to fall asleep in John's arms after a round of extraordinary sex?! That thought though, sent a spark through Sherlock's mind and his eyes snapped open to find John's content gaze.

 

"Did you come?"

 

A frown appeared on John's forehead, but he nodded nonetheless. "Yes, I did. Couldn't you deduce it from the used condom or did I manage to break your brain?"

 

Of course, the used condom, Sherlock scolded himself inwardly, but still... "I didn't do anything to make you..."

 

"Shh!" A finger on his lips interrupted his panicking speech. "That's not true. You were fantastic." John exchanged his finger with his mouth, before he resumed speaking. "If it hadn't been for the condom, I would have come as soon as you started moving. So. Don't. Doubt. Yourself!" Every word was followed by a passionate kiss and Sherlock's panic abated with every brush of lips and every gentle caress from John.

 

His mind had already drifted half the way to sleep, when a gentle question rose him again. "Did you enjoy your first time?"

 

"Yes," Sherlock murmured with his head on John's shoulder.

 

"Was it as good as you imagined it to be?" And there was a hint of trepidation in John's voice, but Sherlock was too tired to analyze it farther as he gave an honest answer. "Better."

 

"Good." The trepidation had melted from John's voice and Sherlock smiled as he nuzzled the soft skin of his throat. He had waited over three decades for this moment and Sherlock didn't regret one second of it, as he drifted off to sleep, enfolded in John's arms and their love.


End file.
